


A Helping Hand

by NotPersephone



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Height Differences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 01:10:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8690683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotPersephone/pseuds/NotPersephone
Summary: “Are you still annoyed? There is nothing wrong with accepting a helping hand.”





	

“Red or white?”

She finished the session with the usual question before heading to the kitchen to retrieve the wine glasses. Yet when she opened her usual cabinet the glasses were nowhere to be seen. Her annoyance at the ineptitude of the cleaners grew by a minute, when she finally discovered the glassware on the very top shelf of the third cabinet. Even in her heels, the shelf was out of her reach. She was about to search for a stepping stool when a familiar voice called from the doorway.

“Is everything alright, Dr Du Maurier?” Hannibal asked, probably alarmed by her longer than usual absence.

“Yes Hannibal, I’m fine. I just need a step ladder to get to the glasses.”

“That won’t be necessary,” he replied. Always looking for a chance to please her, he crossed the kitchen in two long strides. Standing behind Bedelia, he extended his arm over her head, reaching the glasses without any difficulty and placing them on a counter.

“There was no need for that, Hannibal. I am capable of finding my way around my own house,” she said sharply.

She turned abruptly and found herself standing extremely close to her only patient. As they spent their sessions seated, Bedelia had never considered how tall Hannibal was. Until now. Even in heels, she barely reached his shoulder. He could easily overpower her. Yet it was not fear stirring in her mind. Though there were still several inches between them, there was a buzzing energy that connected them. There was heat radiating from his body and flooding hers, as if they were pressed together, skin to skin.

Hannibal stared at her intensely, flames blazing behind his eyes. Although he had never said it explicitly, they both knew what he wanted. If he was to press her back against the counter now and kiss her, she would melt into his arms.

But he wouldn’t.

He did not want to break their boundaries without her permission and waited for her to make the first move.

But she wouldn’t.

Minutes, that felt like hours, had passed before Bedelia moved from the near-embrace, opened the bottle and poured the wine. They drank it in silence, the air still charged with the electricity between them.

There was no mention of that evening in the following session, or any after that.

Until their first week together in Florence.

It was unusual for Hannibal to wake up after Bedelia and he was even more surprised to find her standing in the kitchen, wrapped in a silk robe, preparing coffee.

Hannibal paused before entering and drank in the sight, every single drop of Bedelia.

“Good morning,” he joins her by the table. A setting feels familiar, reminding him of an occurrence from their past, and Hannibal gets lost in the memory.

“Is something the matter?” Bedelia regards him curiously.

“The last time we were standing in a kitchen was in your house, after one of our sessions. I helped you reach a glass,” Hannibal smiles at the recollection, “You seemed to be irritated by that.”

Bedelia finds herself almost blushing. “I can’t believe you remember that,” she says, trying to conceal the fact that she too recalls that evening vividly. Or rather the fantasies that followed it.

Hannibal continues to smile. “Are you still annoyed? There is nothing wrong with accepting a helping hand.”

“You were my patient, Hannibal. Having wine with you was unorthodox enough, without you coming to my rescue.”

“I have never found you in a need of a rescue,” Hannibal replies, genuine sincerity and affection pouring from his voice.

“And you did terminate our patient/ doctor relationship,” he adds with a spark in his eyes.

“To tell the truth, I remember that evening because there was something I really wanted to do then.”

“And what was that?” Bedelia asks, at once aware of her rapid heartbeat.

Hannibal stoops down to meet her lips but fails to do so, the lack of her shoes adding to the height difference between them.

A smile returns to his lips and, without any hesitation, he lifts her up and places her on the counter.

Bedelia gasps at the sudden movement, putting her hands on his shoulders, unable to hide the rush she felt.

Hannibal chuckles and finally kisses her, softly, relishing the moment.

Surprising herself, Bedelia responds hungrily, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and deepening the kiss.

The coffee is left forgotten. There is so much lost time to make up for.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a tumblr prompts, Hannibal helping Bedelia reach something off a high shelf.  
> I am weak for the height difference between them.


End file.
